


Some Crap About the Furniture

by quin12



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Engagement, F/M, Fluff, M/M, brief mentions of Nick's crush on Harry, completely mindless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:36:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quin12/pseuds/quin12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aimee gets engaged, Ian is cool with it. Nick hooks up with Louis, who decides to stick around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Crap About the Furniture

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited about the engagement, so I wrote it! And I also have been playing around with tomlinshaw from an outsiders POV, and Aimee seemed like a great person to write. 
> 
> There's no real plot to this story. I realize that Aimee and Ian are not actually celebrities, but this fic is by no means invasive. Think of everyone just being characters based off real people. Also I've posted this in a rush, so curse me in your mind if you find a mistake.

Nick Grimshaw is officially on Aimee's shit list. Her friend shit list of course, but that's still an unfortunate place to be. Of course the night she decides to take the plunge and tell Ian they're getting married—preferably not in the immediate future because there's the holidays and work and fashion week will be packed for her—Nick has to call her up at 2 in the morning and tell her he just slept with Louis Tomlinson. 

Which is a complete WTF moment for her because when did his world-ending crush on Harry go away? Or maybe it was a ploy to get his attention? Either way, Aimee has had a really long night and this can wait till morning. She doesn't even respond to Nick's confession, just ends the call and hooks her arm around Ian who passed out looking at the white gold ring around his finger. 

She was supposed to propose properly. They have reservations next week at her favorite restaurant in New York, all their friends are going to be there, and she'd even booked an awful private tour at this museum that Ian always geeks out about. But tonight, she couldn't wait. Ian was sat on the sofa with Thurston tucked in next to him, his glasses on as he worked on some radio thing for after the break. She could see a small slip of his tummy where his shirt had ridden up. Everywhere in the house was _theirs_ , even the love of her life Thurston. Not even Nick and Henry could be considered part of Thurston’s family, not even 3rd cousins twice removed. 

After redoing the tight bun on the top of her head and pocketing the ring box, Aimee collapsed next to him on the couch. She took the laptop away, held his hand and Thurston's paw and looked directly into Ian's eyes as she said "we're getting married."

For his part, Ian only looked slightly alarmed. But as with most things Ian does, he trusted her enough to just shrug his shoulders and went "great!" Then, "wait, we as in all three of us? Because you're also holding Thurston's hand so I'm confused." 

"Ian if you think you're marrying me without also marrying Thurston I don't think we really know each other," Aimee replied, serious as anything. 

The great part about Ian is that he's just as committed to Aimee's dog as she is. All she could think was _this is the most LOL thing to happen, everyone is going to throw a fit_. But now it's the middle of the night and Aimee is fuming that Nick can't read her goddamn mind about the proposal and slept with a guy instead.

She makes it ‘til the breakfast show is over to force Nick into a late brunch and tell her everything. He makes her explain the ordeal with Ian first because he's the world's best shittiest friend. After he's done shrieking about "You didn't even bloody ask him? God you just decided his fate like nothing!" he starts in on his story. 

Apparently it happened when they ran into each other at an awful industry networking thing. Aimee knows a party and that would definitely not qualify as one. They got drunk, recognized each other, then ended up talking because producers and label people are boring as hell. Nothing makes sense about Nick and Louis. Aimee's finding it difficult to even think of them in the same room. "We made fun of him on the x factor before," she finally says with a permanently furrowed brow. "Remember? He went to the hospital and we called him an attention queen."  
Rolling his eyes Nick responds, "Yeah well a couple of years ago you met Ian and thought his gray hair meant he was boring and unattractive. Now you bite anyone's head off if someone speaks harshly in his direction.”

“That is completely not true,” Aimee replies—it’s totally true, Ian has complained that he can take care of himself more than once. “God, this is weird. You have to promise to not tell anyone before our trip, not even Collette.” Nick looks absolutely offended, but she knows he’ll go along with it. He’s the best, honestly. “The night I decide to get married, you go off and shag a pop star of course.”

“First off, I’d like to emphasize that marriage is a joint thing. You know poor Ian would’ve agreed to murder me if you just commanded it.” Aimee rolls her eyes. He’s so dramatic. “And second, we did not shag. For most of the night his glorious thighs were wrapped around my face.” Nick gets a faraway look in his eyes for a few seconds. Aimee has just lost her appetite. 

Flagging down the waiter, she orders two mimosas. “I can’t eat anymore. I’m living off of alcohol. Wait what happened with Harry? Aren’t you in love with him?”

Nick decides to take an unnecessarily large bite at that moment, and they’re in a very tense battle of eye contact until he speaks. “Well, Harry is a fit bloke and quite amazing. But he’s also not ever going to be anything but a friend.” With the next part, Nick looks down and mumbles his words. “Plus, Louis is great. Like, he got up this morning to make me tea.”

Oh no. “Oh no Nick, I know that look,” Aimee says. It’s the look of doom. When Nick gets obsessed with someone, he won’t stop talking about them. It was Harry, then Nico, now Louis. He falls too easily, that’s what he has Aimee for. She knows how to weed out the bad ones. 

“It’s not like that! It was one night!” Right. Total lie. “Anyways, let’s talk about the trip,” Nick quickly says, trying to change the subject. 

\--

New York city is amazing, as always. Aimee still sees the late nights of her club days as she wanders around the city. If there was a party going on, she either helped promote it or she knew the people in charge. In the good old days, she’d go around to four or five spots around Manhattan and still be up and ready for work the next day. But now Ian is next to her, and they both have engagement rings. It’s different in the best way possible. 

Everyone flips their shit, of course. Lily shrieks so loud that the table next to them discreetly moves their chairs away from them. Nick gets a slap on the head from Alexa for not spilling the beans. Ian for the most part just stays next to Aimee, and they just kind of lean against each other and don’t move away. She’d kill before telling anyone, but she’s happiest when her man is comfortably within arms reach. Falling in love with a British radio producer with an affinity to dot-to-dot drawings was so not in her life plan. At least this way, she can take over the world with someone else. 

Ian and Aimee still go on the ridiculous private tour (they had very much fun being rude and vulgar just to make their guide uncomfortable) and the awful romantic restaurant. An old high school friend had found success in being a restaurateur, so it was completely over the top. After their dessert, Ian says teasingly, “You’re so bloody impatient. You could’ve got down on your knee right here and now, and propose properly.”

Smirking over her glass of wine, Aimee responds, “I could still do it. Make a big show of it.” And without waiting for his rebuttal, she stands up and clinks her spoon against the glass. When it quiets down, she can see her friend come from the kitchen to see what the ruckus is. “I’d like to make an announcement and share my love for this man right here.” She gestures with her glass to Ian and some sloshes out. They may have drained the entire bottle throughout dinner, she may be slightly drunk. Clearing her throat and dramatically dropping to one knee, she earnestly looks up at Ian. Speaking loudly Aimee says, “My dearest Ian. Please, would you marry me?”

When Ian nods, there’s a round of applause from the diners and Aimee gets off her knee to kiss him. They both begin laughing hysterically, because apparently they need two proposals and only assholes do it so publicly.

\--

“You like _who?_ ” Aimee squawks. Nick is sitting across from him as the tv plays in the background. Ian is God knows where—he knows to get lost when Nick comes round for their special dates—and the dogs are playing energetically in the kitchen where they’ve been penned up. Aimee had specifically lost the information in her brain that Nick went home with Louis Tomlinson two months ago, yet here Nick is talking about him again. 

“We uh, well. Y’know we’ve been hanging out a bit and I think I like him,” Nick’s words get higher and higher as he goes on, as if asking a question. _I think i like him?_

It’s a conscious effort to stop the negativity that is on the tip of Aimee’s tongue. _He’s your friend and he’s an emotionally fragile flower. At least_ try _to smile._ Her mouth curls up at the edges, but even she knows it looks forced. “I’m happy for you if you’re happy. But what do you guys even talk about? Football and beer and fashion?” 

“We actually really like the same stuff on the telly, thanks.” Then, quietly, “He has a toothbrush spot at my house.” And like, toothbrushes aren’t a big deal. Aimee has at least five extras; Nick has double that, the social bastard. But they’re all tucked away in a drawer, Nick’s only got his and Aimee’s brushes in his actual holder. 

Well, now he has Louis’ too apparently. A prime toothbrush spot _is_ a big deal. “How often are you guys together then? Weekly? Twice a week?” It’s even hard for Aimee to see Nick. He’s got the breakfast show that lasts half the day, and now he’s got that telly show. Not to mention all his little fashion blurbs and press stuff he does. Doesn’t Louis have world tours to sell out anyways?

“Well, if he brings a bag, it could be a weekend. Last week I saw him about four times. He’s got tour coming up and I think he’s trying to see me as much as possible.”

“So like, you’re together,” Aimee says, just for clarification. 

“Not officially, I guess. No one knows except you and Collette and I guess his band.” Nick looks nervous about saying that, like Aimee isn’t perceptive enough to see how important it is to him. 

Resolving to give him a chance, Aimee can only nod and say, “That’s great then. If you’re happy I’m happy. Invite him round for Sunday roast next time, I wanna meet him. Now move so I can cuddle you.”

\--

It’s months until Aimee meets Louis. Either he’s on tour, Nick’s hogging him up, or she’s out of country for work. She gets second hand information from Nick all the time, though. One week he’s crying to her because Louis spent his two day break with Zayn riding around in something called the Mystery Machine. Then the next week Nick is flying to France for the weekend to see him. 

Nick in a relationship is weird. They’re shopping in Notting Hill and he’s glued to his phone way more than usual. Aimee is just about to snatch it and throw it in her bottomless purse for the day, when Nick shrieks a little. “He’s facetiming me, what the fuck.”

Through the tinny speakers, Aimee hears, “You’re such an idiot, obviously I’m Julia Roberts and you’re Hugh Grant.” 

“I knew you’ve watched it!” Nick has cornered himself to a small couch in the shop, Aimee quickly following. Are they talking about Notting Hill?

“Ok I might have been forced to watch it because of Harry. But I am offended you think I’d be the unknown shop keeper. I’m way more famous than you, babe.”

“You’re such a wanker. The UK hears my voice every morning, and they love it. Admit defeat.” Noticing Aimee for the first time, Nick says, “Oh! Do you want to meet Aimee? We’re out shopping now.” 

Aimee grabs the phone and suddenly she’s on facetime with Louis and it’s a bit weird. He’s got a surprised look on his face as if he wasn’t ready. In the background she can see his posh hotel suite, but his hair is a disaster and is he wearing Nick’s Dr. Dre shirt? “Hiya,” Aimee says, “Nice to finally talk to the person Nick always ditches me for.”

At least Louis has the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah I guess that’d be me. You can take him back at any time, honestly. I’m thinking about getting a refund. Yeah, a boyfriend refund.” 

Nick butts in, “God you’re a nuisance. Be nice around Aimee.”

“No, no. I like it. Someone’s got to keep Grimmy in his place. I’m glad to see you can do it anywhere in the world. Gives me a peace of mind.”

“Oh yes, I can do _many_ things halfway across the globe.”

That comment makes Aimee cackle out loud. She’s slowly gotten accustomed to Nick having a true real life boyfriend, but it still doesn’t feel right that he’s not been introduced to all his friends. But in this moment, she can see why they’re perfect for each other. Nick is only this way with people he’s 100% comfortable with. His eyes are sparkling for fucks sake. Not even Jonny could do that, and she personally picked him. “Okay, keep it in your pants,” Aimee finally says. Then looking at Nick, “You have five minutes then I’m leaving. Lunch is overdue.” 

\--

The wedding is spectacular and everything Aimee ever wanted. Her and Ian decided (together!) that it had to be good, but they also were forbidden to stress about it. No point in having a terrible time planning the best day of their lives. Thankfully Aimee could orchestrate an entire event with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back. 

Her mom is crying next to Alexa, who is also crying. Actually, the entire bridal party is crying. “Get yourself together,” she says over the general din. “You are embarrassing me and Ian.” 

No one listens. At least Ian hasn’t cried, at least at the reception. He could hardly get through his vows. It was both sentimental and oddly funny. But there’s no reason to cry at the dinner. There’s an open bar for a reason. “Maybe you should check up on Grimmy. Haven’t seen him around and we’re doing the cake soon,” Ian whispers. 

“Good idea, I’ll be back. Don’t you dare cry.” Aimee gets up and resituates her dress—she loves Henry to death, but he was not designing it for comfort and a part of her rib is sore—then goes off to search for the second loveliest man in her life. 

Rounding the corner in the hall, she hears, “-don’t you dare! You can’t just say it then take it back.” That’s definitely Louis. Besides his endearingly unique voice, the strong accent is a dead giveaway. Of course those two would get in an argument at a _wedding_. Louis has become a regular guest at Sunday brunch when he’s in town, and everyone knows he riles Grimmy up as much as he makes him insufferably cheery. Aimee thinks it’s a sex thing. 

“What’s going on here? Fighting on my big day?” Aimee makes herself visible and finds Nick caging in Louis against the wall. They both look suspiciously flushed, but Nick’s ears are flaming red meaning he’s intensely embarrassed. 

He spares her a look before backing off Louis and folding his arms defensively. “I think all of us should go back to the party.” 

Louis is less amenable and stays rooted in his spot. “Not before you tell me what you really want.” He lowers his voice barely above a whisper, “I want to hear it.” 

Slowly backing away because Aimee has some tact—not much, but some—and she can tell when she’s intruding. “I’ll see you guys in five.”

Louis looks at her with something in his eyes that makes her stop. “No, Nick is being a twat and I am going to badger him until he’s normal again. You’re here to make sure we don’t murder each other.”

“You’re such a bloody nuisance. She’s literally just gotten married, let her go. Aimee you should get back to Ian,” Nick directs the last sentence at her, but his gaze never leaves Louis’. She stays for a few more seconds of their showdown before turning, but then hears, “I asked if you wanted to live together. I’ve been thinking about constantly, but like, I don’t know how long you’re in this for.”

Oh right. Nick had brought the idea up to Aimee a couple weeks ago. It was so close to the wedding that she couldn’t immerse herself in that drama. Instead she said, yeah maybe, then called up Collette to check on him. 

Louis says, “I- well, it’s- Yes.” Aimee turns around in time to see Nick’s reaction, which looks hesitantly ecstatic. Then they start kissing, so that’s her cue to leave. Nick is great, Louis is great. Them kissing is definitely not great; they get oddly aggressive. 

She hears behind her, “I can’t believe you buggered that up. When you propose in a few years, make sure you don’t half ass it.”  
Nick exclaims out, “Wha-” and then silence. Whatever, weddings are made for getting off anyway. Which gives Aimee quite a good idea.


End file.
